For some reason, or more likely many reasons, the West has been fascinated with Japan's geisha, and several books have been written about this subject. Yoko Kawaguchi, a Japanese researcher, who grew up in North America, adds to this collection with her fascinating and well-researched Butterfly's Sisters. "Butterfly", of course, refers to Madam Butterfly, the geisha of Puccini's opera. This western depiction of the (supposedly) ultimate Japanese woman -- trained to please men, be subservient, and most of all represent idealized femininity -- has colored the view of Japanese and Asian women in general.

Kawaguchi admits she was offended by this view. Not only did it make her cringe by the affectedness and artificiality, but that she felt "the geisha was being held up to me as a standard of exotic glamor that I could not possibly hope to live up to." But then she had to admit to herself she really knew little about real geisha, and was reacting to the western construct. So in this book, she investigates the roots of this image, how it developed, and how it still influences representations of Japanese women.

Kawaguchi describes the pre-twentieth century origins of the westernized geisha image. Historically, Japan was nearly completely isolated from European and American influences until 1853. Prior to the opening of Japan, the sole point of contact was a Dutch trading company on an island at the port of Nagasaki. The sailors, traders, and administrators, were allowed to participate in regulated prostitution. After the opening of the port of Yokohama and then others, Western contact increased dramatically, and a tourist trade began to flourish.

The pleasure quarters of brothels and teahouses attracted their share of attention, but nothing intrigued the travelers more than geisha. In particular, writers Pierre Loti (Madame Chrysanthème) and John Luther Long (Madam Butterfly) wrote stories dealing with a westerner's liaison with a local girl. These stories inspired Puccini's opera. The young woman devotes her life to the man, but in the end he chooses his life back home over one with her in Japan. These women became symbolic of geisha, whom most westerners assumed to be like all women involved in the pleasure trade.

In actuality, geisha represent a small portion of the business. They are highly trained in cultural highlights such as tea ceremony, dance, and stringed instruments, as well as in making intelligent conversation. Of course, the intimate way in which these skills are applied always brought up the question of sexual contact. And the lack of a clear answer added to their mystique.

By the beginning of the twentieth-century, Japan and particularly geisha became the rage especially in popular theater, photography, and art. Like most things imported, they are made to fit local tastes. A fascinating part of Yamaguchi's book follows a Japanese theater troupe making their way across America and Europe taking advantage of the Japan craze in the early 1900s.

The book follows the trail of how this image of geisha has affected the view of Japanese and Asian women in western culture through the rise of Japan's military power and colonialism, the devastation of World War II and American Occupation, the postwar rise of Japan's economic power, and the interest in Japan's popular culture. The book is dense with information but well written, and the logic progression of ideas is well thought out. I highly recommend the book for those interested in Japanese history and culture, and how it has been usurped to a large degree by western bias from over a century ago.